


Fine Details

by maychorian



Series: Broken Hands and Boys in Danger [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Physical Disability, Recovery, Sibling Love, learning to live with it, let Jason be the big brother he was born to be, let Tim be the nerd he was born to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22045723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/pseuds/maychorian
Summary: Tim is still learning to live with his new disability. When he finds a technique that helps mitigate it and lets him enjoy something he thought he would never be able to do again, he just has to share.Rated T purely for Jason's mouth. Everything else is perfectly G.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Broken Hands and Boys in Danger [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586770
Comments: 33
Kudos: 479





	Fine Details

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by [this episode of Mini Primetime](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uO3Qt8XIAws).
> 
> The comments on that video make me tear up.
> 
> You don't have to watch it, but I recommend it.

"Jason! Jay! Come here!"

Jason had spent a lot of time with Tim at this point. He'd heard his voice in pretty much all states of emotion: overjoyed, despairing, enraged, agonized. At least, he'd thought he'd heard all of the tones Tim was capable of producing. But he'd never heard this one.

He instantly dropped what he was doing and ran for Tim's room, feet pounding on the floor. His hand was on the handle of the wicked hunting knife he always carried, even while safe in the depths of Wayne Manor as he was now, but he didn't take it out yet. He rounded the doorway into the bedroom then stood there, heart racing.

His eyes burned as he swept the room, looking for anything that could be construed as a threat. There was nothing, not at first glance, just Tim sitting at his desk surrounded with nerd stuff. And surely if there was a threat Tim wouldn't be just sitting down taking it passively? Jason finally blinked and focused on his little brother, breathing hard. "What? What is it?"

Tim managed to look sheepish and happy at the same time, simultaneously grinning and cringing. He was balled up in kind of a weird posture, his hands contorted near his chest, holding objects too tiny for Jason to make out with his heartbeat pounding in his eyes. "Sorry, bro. I didn't mean to freak you out. There's no danger or anything. I just wanted to show you something."

Jason blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, though his other hand stayed near his knife. He rocked back on his heels, only then realizing that he'd been balancing on the balls of his feet in preparation of running or fighting. "What?" he repeated, forcing something like calm into his voice.

Tim lifted one hand, which Jason now realized was holding a teeny tiny paintbrush, and waved him over. "Come and see. It's so cool, Jason. You won't believe it."

Jason sucked in another breath, purging the last shreds of his adrenaline, and walked over to join him at his desk. Tim was scrunched up with his left knee raised up to his stomach and the other foot loose on the floor. His left hand was resting on his knee, holding one of the miniature figures they used for marking their places on the grid map for encounters during W&W sessions. The mini was painted, unlike most of the plain black ones they used, and it was looking pretty darn good to Jason's inexpert eye.

Tim's right hand was holding the paintbrush, and up close, Jason could see that there was a rubber band wrapped around his wrist and he was holding the paintbrush like a pen with his thumb and index finger. In front of him on the desk were various painting supplies: a little palette with drops of paint, a cup of cloudy water, several paintbrushes of various sizes, and of course a half dozen bottles of paint, most of them with the lids up.

Jason sighed and started picking up the open bottles and snapping them shut. "You're such a little kid sometimes, Timmy."

"Sorry." Tim didn't sound sorry at all. "I got excited, that's all." He lifted the painted mini in his left hand and waved it in front of Jason's face. "Look at it, Jay! Can you believe it?"

The mini was so close to his face that Jason's eyes crossed when he tried to look at it. He took a step back and gingerly plucked it from Tim's fingers, being careful of spots where the paint looked damp, and held it up so he could really look at it. He was peripherally aware of Tim's face, still grinning with pride and happiness.

And now he remembered. A couple of weeks into the campaign, they'd all gone onto a website where you could make customized minis to match your character, and then Bruce had ordered them for them. It was really cool to have a customized mini, of course. Jason's wizard had an open vest and billowy pants, curly hair, spiked leather boots from the cyperpunk set of features, a flameball in one hand, and his squirrel familiar, Patchy, on his shoulder. You were never going to find a mini like that in a shop.

But they all came in plain black pastic, of course. Tim had sighed and said he'd love to paint them, as he used to paint figures when he was younger. Dick had given him a quizzical look, like he didn't know why Tim wouldn't do it now, and he just held up his hand so they could see how it shook. His right hand shook all the time, sometimes only barely, sometimes much more strongly, especially when he was tired or stressed. Usually the left hand shook too, though it wasn't quite as bad. It was just a fact of Tim's life now: hands that didn't quite work, or at least didn't work the way they used to.

"Never mind," Bruce said. "We'll have a painting party, and you can teach us. We'll figure it out." And of course then he went on one of those hobby websites and bought all the supplies they could ever need. 

But somehow the painting party never happened. It was hard enough finding time for all of them to get together once a week, and even then it was normal for one or two of them to be missing. (Fortunately it wasn't much of a problem with such a big party, but it did suck sometimes.) And the plain black figures worked well enough. So the idea just kind of...fell by the wayside.

Jason hadn't realized that Tim still thought about it, that it still bothered him. He felt bad, now, that he hadn't tried harder to make that painting party happen, or help Tim figure out some other way to enjoy his old hobby. Tim didn't have enough hobbies that were just for him, just for fun. He was glad that Tim was playing W&W again, but even there he was serving the family, sort of, just in a more fun way. (Yeah, they'd had ideas of other people taking over as GM so Tim could play, but Tim was just so _good_ at it...)

But then he realized what he was looking at. It was Jason's wizard mini. The skin was a lovely mid-tan, his curly hair dark brown with light brown highlights. The vest was dark blue, the pants a light shade of blue that somehow looked silky and flowy. The flameball in his hand was red and yellow and orange, and Patchy the squirrel looked just like the squirrels they'd released into the yard several months ago.

Then he looked even closer. The blue vest had tiny gold buttons. Patchy had tiny black eyes. The spikes on the boots were painted silver. When Jason turned the figure around, there was a tiny, intricate design painted on the back of the vest. It looked like an arcane symbol with extra little filigrees on the edges, and Jason loved it instantly. It was perfect for his character.

He looked up at Tim, his mouth gaping. "Did... You... Did you...?"

Tim nodded so hard his hair flopped in front of his face, still grinning fit to bust. "I did! I painted it!"

"It looks _awesome."_ Jason held the figure out slightly so he could admire it in its entirety. "Holy shit, Timbo, it looks so good. How the hell..."

Tim triumphantly held up his right hand and turned it so Jason could see that the rubber band around his wrist wasn't just an accessory. The band had been twisted once and wrapped around his outside three fingers, holding them back against his palm. Tim's voice was as excited as a little kid who had just discovered something amazing and wondrous, like bubbles, or finger paints.

"I was watching this series of mini painting videos on the internet, not, like, thinking that I'd ever be able to use the techniques, but just kind of enjoying watching other people do it, you know? And then in the finale the guest was this guy who has a tremor, kind of like mine, and the host showed him all these tricks to stabilize his hand and help him paint. And they really work! Like, especially the rubber band trick, holy moley, Jay, it's so simple and so _effective,_ I can't believe it. This is a lifechanger. There are gonna be so many things I can do now! Or do again! I can paint! I really can! And it actually looks good, and..."

Suddenly, there were tears in Tim's eyes, and the excitement wavering in his voice sounded dangerously close to sobs, and he was shaking. Not his hands, but all over. Jason quickly set the mini aside and got down on one knee to drag Tim into a tight hug. Tim held the wet paintbrush over his shoulder, but wrapped his other arm around Jason's side and pressed his face into his shoulder.

He didn't cry, but it was a near thing. Jason closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against the side of his head. His heart ached. Why hadn't they tried before to find something like this for Tim? Why did they just...accept that his life was going to be difficult from now on, that there were things he couldn't do anymore, and there was nothing they could do about it?

Bruce had put _so much_ effort into helping Tim compensate for his tremor during his night job. The Flying Fox costume was absolutely rife with devices to help Tim perform to the fullness of his capability without being hindered by his disability. Why hadn't they even thought about putting the same amount of effort into Tim's civilian life? Or even a fraction?

Especially when the solution was so simple. Holy shit. A rubber band. Who ever would have thought.

"That's so cool," Jason murmured close to Tim's ear. "It's so cool. I'm so happy for you, little bro. It's... It's amazing."

Shit, he had a lump in his throat, too. Jason hadn't meant for that to happen.

"Do you like the mini?" Tim asked in a small voice. "For real? If not, we can order another one, and you can paint it yourself. I just wanted..."

"I _love_ it," Jason said fiercely, squeezing Tim so hard that he gasped. Jason pulled back and picked up the mini so he could look at it again, his eyes feasting on all of the fine details. "For real, Tim, it's so good. I didn't even think about putting a design on the back of his vest, but I love it. I love everything about it. The colors, Patchy, the fireball, the spikes on the boots... Every tiny bit is absolutely amazing. I never would have done anything half as good. This is a _gift,_ and I'm honored that you decided to paint my mini first. I get to lord it over everyone else, and they're all gonna be jealous as hell."

Tim was grinning again, not as broadly as before, but still full of joy and pride. "Cool," he said with relief. "I'm really glad."

"But you know, we really need to get you playing and making your own characters so you can paint your own mini, too. Man, I can't even imagine what kind of design you might come up for your own character. I can't wait to see it."

Tim's face fell slightly. "But you're all having so much fun playing, I don't want to make anyone else GM..."

Jason shook his head. "You're not _making_ anyone GM, buddy. I goddamn volunteer as tribute, okay? I really want to see what kind of character you make. It would be a _pleasure."_

Tim tilted his head. "Are you sure? What if you don't have fun GMing?"

Jason snorted. "Me? Not have fun controlling the table for our entire batshit family? Penalizing Damian for his bullshit attempts to control every encounter, making Dick roll saves for wandering away when he should be sticking with the party, forcing Bruce to actually _live_ by that Lawful Good alignment instead of bending it everywhere he sees the slightest opportunity? Why would you even think it was a possibility that I wouldn't enjoy that?" He slapped his hand over his heart, pretend-hurt. "Don't you know me at all?"

Tim laughed, broad and joyous. "Yeah, okay. I should have thought before I spoke."

"Damn right." Jason jostled his shoulder with one hand, rough and friendly, then set the mini down on the desk and grinned at it proudly. "Seriously, Tim, it looks so good. Which one are you going to paint next? Or what else do you want to do? The possibilities are endless."

Tim grinned, nose scrunching up. "Oh man, I have so many ideas."

And he was off, chattering about all of the nerdy and not-so-nerdy things he could do with hands that were just a little more steady. Jason knelt there, his chin in his hands, and listened. He was grinning, too.

It was so good. Jason's little wizard sat between them, gleaming in the light. Every single tiny, fine detail was perfect and beloved, even the flaws.

Especially the flaws.


End file.
